All at once our dog began to growl and erect his hair, sniffing not at the foot scent, but looking directly into the thicket just ahead.  He began then to bark, and as he did so there rose, with a sullen sort of grunt and a champing of jaws like a great hog, a vast yellow-gray object, whose head topped the bushes that grew densely all about.  The girl at my side uttered a cry of terror and turned to run as best she might, but she fell, and lay there cowering.

The grizzly stood looking at me vindictively with little eyes, its ears back, its jaws working, its paws swinging loosely at its side, the claws white at the lower end, as though newly sharpened for slaughtering.  I saw then that it was angered by the sight of the dog, and would not leave us.  Each moment I expected to hear it crash through the bush in its charge.  Once down in the brush, there would be small chance of delivering a fatal shot; whereas now, as it swung its broad head slightly to one side, the best possible opportunity for killing it presented itself immediately.  Without hesitation I swung up the heavy barrel, and drew the small silver bead directly on the base of the ear, where the side bones of a bear’s head are flatter and thinner, directly alongside the brain.  The vicious crack of the rifle sounded loud there in the thicket; but there came no answer in response to it save a crashing and slipping and a breaking down of the bushes as the vast carcass fell at full length.  The little ball had done its work and found the brain.

I knew the bear was dead, but for a time did not venture closely.  I looked about and saw the girl slowly rising on her elbow, her face uncovered now, but white in terror.  I motioned for her to lie still, and having reloaded, I pushed quietly through the undergrowth.  I saw a vast gray, grizzled heap lying there, shapeless, motionless.  Then I shouted aloud and went back and picked her up and carried her through the broken thicket, and placed her on the dead body of the grizzly, seating myself at her side.

We were two savages, successful now in the chase—­successful, indeed, in winning the capital prize of all savages; for few Indians will attack the grizzly if it can be avoided.  She laid her hand wonderingly upon the barrel of the rifle, looking at it curiously, that it had been so deadly as to slay a creature so vast as this.  Then she leaned contentedly against my side, and so we sat there for a time.  “John Cowles,” she said, “you are brave.  You are very much a man.  I am not afraid when you are with me.”  I put my arm about her.  The world seemed wild and fair and sweet to me.  Life, savage, stern, swept through all my veins.

The skinning of the bear was a task of some moment, and as we did this we exulted that we would now have so fine a robe.  The coarse meat we could not use, but the fat I took off in flakes and strips, and hung upon the bushes around us for later carrying into camp.  In this work she assisted me, hobbling about as best she might.